Survival

As I swam ashore, I could hear

The death-cries of the people left behind

Who could not swim, were fated to die

To be swallowed by the dark churning sea,

We were fifteen in the capsized boat.

Reaching the shore, I sought help,

The few people standing on the beach

Were mere spectators who watched the boat sink,

Shook their heads and headed home;

No one helped me to stand on my feet.

Curled up on the wet sand, I struggled,

To stay warm, waited for my blood to race,

Through my veins to make me feel alive.

And alive I was, I could feel my limbs twitch,

I could feel the intake and outflow of breath,

And my legs, forcing me to rise and move;

The passage of storm might be fearsome,

But any recovery then on is a painful effort.

Once on my feet, I gathered my wits,

And realized only an adjustment to new surroundings,

Would complete my recovery

A new chapter must open, making me responsible.